Untitled for now
by amethystluv
Summary: Set in changed future and what I would like to see happen. Becca is wanted by the Source and it will take all of the Halliwell family to save her, but why won't Wyatt leave her her side? rated K  for now  Please RR
1. Meeting an Old Friend

Okay, it's been seven years since I've posted fanfiction, and this is my first Charmed fanfiction. I am pretty much on my knees begging you to push that little button and tell me what you did or did not like about my story. If you hated it I'll be crushed but please tell me why. If you loved it we are officially new best friends but again please tell me why. This is set in the changed future, and what I would like to see happen. I, of course, don't own anything related to Charmed or things would have ended differently (like there would have been at least one photo of Prue in the finale) but I digress. I hope you enjoy this first chapter, and I really hope you review.

Lost in thought, Rebecca Sawyer didn't hear her name being called until the third time was nearly a shout. Stopping, she took a moment to squash the urge to run. She was no longer a child. She would no longer live in fear. Relaxing the body that had instinctively tensed she turned around and saw, in her mind, the main reason she was no longer afraid.

"Henry!"

The uncertainty was quickly replaced with delight as the young woman launched herself at her former probation officer. Here was one of the first few people she had ever allowed herself to trust. Henry Mitchell had earned that trust. When they first met Becca had been a surly, arrogant fourteen year old who after more than a decade in foster care had heard all the lies adults fed children they didn't really care about. Henry didn't lie. He didn't try to deceive her. For once, she was more than a case file. He also refused to put up with her legendary attitude and temper. She didn't have any family and wouldn't allow herself any close friendships, but Henry was the exception to that particular rule. He was her mentor. He was her friend.

"Hey, Becca. I've been calling you're name for half a block. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were ignoring me. What's wrong, Becca?"

The question was said with quiet concern and Becca casually shrugged her shoulders as if it didn't matter. Was she that easy to read, or did he know just where to look?

"It's no big deal. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be saving the youth of San Francisco?" The jab said with a smile.

"Even superheroes like me get weekends off," he joked, watching her face slowly close up of emotion, "Come on, I'll buy you coffee and you can tell me what's going on."

So, the casual shrug hadn't worked. Not that she expected to fool Henry.

As they walked Henry caught her up with the going-ons of his life. Normally, he never told kids on probation about his home life in great detail, but Becca had become his exception of the particular rule. He knew she'd she would need time to work up to what was bothering her. When she hadn't reacted to him hailing her he knew she wasn't distracted- he had seen her face and seen the sadness.

"My son graduates this year, and the twins are going to be seniors this fall. Which is weird, because yesterday all three of them were in diapers," Henry explained, and got a laugh out of the young brunette.

"Last time I saw you Henry Jr. was trying to get a football scholarship. Did anything happen there?"

"He got a partial scholarship to UCLA. I was hoping he'd get a full ride, so I could spend his college money on turning the basement into my new man cave, but I guess I'm proud of him."

Man cave, huh? Just one more sacrifice for your kids," she said with a laugh.

As they reached the coffee shop they paused their game of catch-up to order their drinks. Once they had their caffeine they found an outside table to resume their talk.

Sitting across from Henry, Becca was hit with just how much she owed this man. He had been assigned to her after she was released from juvenile hall. She had been caught driving, well speeding, in a stolen car. The police knew she was one of the city's best and youngest car thieves and gave her a deal- all she had to do was name names and they would lessen her sentence. She didn't and had served her full-term. Once out she expected to resume her career and work on rebuilding her reputation. Henry, quiet and reasonable, made her quickly realize that she had better choices. That she was better. Not that she allowed him to know that she would listen to reason. In the first couple weeks their battles, with her screaming for some phantom injustice and Henry calmly waiting for her to end her tantrum, were constant. It would be months before young Becca realized that Henry won more arguments than he lost.

Slowly, an unfamiliar ache settled on her chest. She wanted this. She wanted to be able to drink coffee with a friend, and put her guard down just a little. Not completely, but just enough to enjoy herself. Her former warden, as she dubbed Henry a week after they met, always had that effect on her. She knew he couldn't save her from the real evil in the world, but she knew he would always be there if she asked. That mattered. As she sipped her iced mocha she reminded herself that she couldn't put her guard down. She couldn't trust strangers or let people in all the way. Not even the man across from her knew all her secrets.

Suddenly, she caught the look. The look that told her it was time to spill her guts. Not quite ready, she turned the conversation back to Henry's children.

"And what are the twins up to? Does Hailey still want to be a rock star?"

Knowing the diversionary tactic Henry played along.

"No, she just wants to date one. Tattoos and piercings are a plus. Paige is trying to convince me it's just a phase. Hope's still on the yearbook committee and apparently becoming the senior editor next year is in the bag." Becca was touched by the pride on his face, and fought harder to suppress the ache.

Henry waited a beat for the young woman to pick up the conversation.

"Come on, Becca. Bite the bullet."

"But, we haven't talked about what's going on with Paige. How is she?" Becca asked, wanting to delay the inevitable.

"She still loves me, even though we both know she can do better. Spill."

"Fine," she let out an exasperated breath. Secretly, she was surprised she had been able to stall for so long.

"You know I came back to work with the Giambelli's after I graduated culinary school."

Of course, he knew. He was the one who had used his connections to get the then sixteen year old girl the job.

"Last night they told me they're going to retire at the end of the month. They're closing the shop and in two and a half weeks I'm going to be unemployed. _Cakes by Giambelli's_ was my first job. It's been my only job, and for the first time in a really long time I don't know what I'm going to do."

It all came out quickly, and she had to admit she did feel better. Just as she had to admit she wouldn't have broken down like this with anyone else.

Henry thought about Mario and Pilar Giambelli. He remembered they're initial reluctance to hire some kid with a reputation for getting into trouble. It had taken hours of phone calls to get Becca the informal interview, and it had only taken one piece of her special red velvet cake to have the elderly couple change their minds completely. They were honest, hard-working people who now in their seventies had always taken an active role in their business. Their retirement, although a long time coming, still came as a bit of a shock.

"I didn't know they wanted to retire. Did they-"

"They don't want to retire!" she exclaimed with a shout. "This fancy developer bought up the businesses around the shop and since business hasn't exactly been booming, Mario and Pilar decided to accept this slick-talking swindler's offer. Next year there will over-priced condos where Cakes by Giambelli used to be. The entire block is being torn down. That means saying good-bye to the Wilson's hardware store, Betty's little arts and craft store, and not to mention that sandwich shop you and I always eat at when you visit."

"Sal's Sub Shop? I love that place! Those sandwiches are half the reason I come visit you at all," Henry exclaimed, with the knowledge they both knew that wasn't true.

"The other half being a slice of my world famous white chocolate cake with raspberry filling. Your hidden agenda isn't so hidden," Becca revealed.

"Have you found out if anyone's hiring?" her warden asked, gently. He could see that their joking was helping her relax, but that she was still distressed about losing her job.

"They just told me last night. Since we're always closed on Sundays it's my day off, and I know I should be putting a plan together, but instead I've just been walking around in a fog. They've lived in San Francisco for fifty years. What are they gonna do in Nashville?"

Henry needed a moment for his brain to make the jump. The Giambellli's. They were talking about the old couple again. What about Nashville?

"Their grandson, Tony, lives in Nashville. I guess they think if they move out there they can convince Tony to settle down with some nice Italian girl."

"In Nashville?" The doubt was evident in his voice, and he only got a shrug as response.

"Henry, what am I gonna do?" It goaded her to have to ask, but there was no one else she could go to. It was so like her old friend to just be there when she needed to lean. Not that she saw it as leaning- she couldn't afford the fallout of ever letting someone all the way in.

"Back to the topic at hand- if you need me to make some calls, or if you need a loan…" Henry quickly trailed off. He knew that look. The look that could freeze a man at twenty paces.

Before she could voice her anger, Henry reconsidered. "I could make a few calls. See if anyone needs someone with your skills."

"My only skills are stealing cars and baking cakes. I won't go back to my old life, and it's not like pastry chefs are in high demand. I'm just not good at anything else. You know I'm right," she added, before he could disagree. "I know how to bake. I've never worked retail or sold life insurance over the phone. Pilar was the people person, so I never even had a chance to work the register. I would probably suck at customer service anyway."

"You've always been good with people," Henry stated, then quickly amended, "you're good with people when you don't lose your temper."

"I've always been good at baking. I could bake a cake that would make you disown your mother, but I don't see myself paying rent with cake."

"You know, my sister-in-law owns a restaurant. I could ask her if she needs any help," he frowned when she shook her head at the suggestion.

"No way. You're not going to involve your family in my problems. It's not right. I've always known you to keep your work and home separate. I don't want to drag them into this. I'll have to figure something out. Thanks, but no thanks."

His frown did not turn upside down. If anything it deepened.

"You're kidding, right? I told you about my son's scholarship and my daughter's musical ambitions. Not to mention you send a Christmas card every year." His confusion was written all over his face.

"I mail that card to your office, but that's not the point-"

"Becca, if you think I'm ashamed of you-"

"Come on, I know you're proud of me," she retorted, "You got me off the streets and kept me off the streets. It's one thing to use your professional contacts to help me find employment when I was a teenager, but it's another thing entirely to ask your family to pitch in with the adult orphan. I'm drawing a line in the sand, Henry."

Henry opened his mouth with an argument on his tongue and then just as quickly closed his mouth and bit his tongue. He knew from experience that he could win an argument with his young charge, but he'd too mentally exhausted to enjoy the victory. He decided the middle ground had less bumps in the road.

"How about I ask Piper, my sister-in-law, if she knows any restaurants who might be willing to interview you? Then I'll be turning a personal contact into a professional one."

The prideful young woman had fought so hard to prove to herself that she was a self-sufficient adult, and wanted to point out that Henry had drawn a shaky line at best, but then she remembered that rent was due at the beginning of the month- just nine days away. She'd be fine this month, and even next month as long as she didn't buy anything frivolous- like groceries. After that, and she was in trouble. She realized that even a self-sufficient adult could ask Henry for help. But could a prideful one?

She took a deep breath and chided herself for not saying what she really meant. She'd always been honest with her warden. After he'd won her trust, of course.

"It's just… it's hard enough for me to ask you for help. I feel uncomfortable asking your family, but if it's not too much trouble could you please ask your sister-in-law if she knows any restaurants that could use a pastry chef? The Giambelli's already told me they'd be able to give me glowing recommendations." She couldn't help it if her smile was a bit forced.

Her warden wasn't fooled. He should have recognized what the problem was. He understood how hard the surly teenager raged against the responsible adult before him. He realized that a few years ago she couldn't have made that request, and Henry couldn't help but be impressed. Watching her tear the napkin into bits, a sure sign she was still uncomfortable, he agreed and changed the subject.

For the next hour they kept the conversation light and friendly. They spoke of Henry's work and Becca's newest culinary creation. He was as busy as ever and she had put her own creative spin to the English Spice cake.

With the coffee long gone and the conversation finally dwindling they got up to say goodbye. As she said hugged the first person to gain her trust she saw her world start to crumble. She released her old friend quickly.

"It was good seeing you, but I gotta bounce," she said hastily, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"I'll call you after I talk to Piper. Try not to worry," he said to be comforting, unbeknownst to him she barely heard him.

Becca grabbed her purse and walked away. She wanted to run. That voice in her head that always reminded her to be afraid seemed to be screaming. She ducked into an alley and braced herself. Becca knew Hell was coming for her.

Henry headed in the opposite direction. Becca was still on his mind, but so were his other charges, his children and thoughts on what his wife might cook for dinner.

It was habit more than anything that had him turning around for once last glance. He didn't need to remind himself that Becca was indeed twenty-five years old. He would continue to look out for her like he always had. He was puzzled to see her walk into the alley. She knew the area better than he did, so there wasn't the chance of her taking a shortcut. Puzzlement turned to fear when to saw the two large angry-looking men follow her. As he moved to help her his mind ran as to who these strangers could be. They didn't wear gang colors, but they were could easily be drug dealers or local thugs who like to terrorize women. They were definitely built for it.

In all the years he'd been married to Paige and knew her life and true calling as he ran into the alley he never considered the truth.

He never considered demons.


	2. Alley Confrontation

CHAPTER 2

Hey, everybody. Hope you enjoy, and please review! Only takes a minute and will make me a better writer! All my love and cookies go out to wizziewoo123 for being my very first reviewer. YAY! I do no own Charmed, Alice in Wonderland or The Cat in the Hat.

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.

Thing One and Thing Two.

Frick and Frack.

'Yeah,' thought Becca, trying to steady her heartbeat. 'I like Frick and Frack.'

In the alley Becca watched the men walk in. Frick was her height, about five-six, with long blonde hair in a ponytail down his back. His brown trench coat should have been a black leather jacket. Frack was much taller, easily six-three, and where his companion had an abundance of hair Frack's bald head shone in the sunlight. Had she not seen them on the sidewalk together, staring at her in that way only demons could, she never would have spared either a second glance. Up close, she could see two similarities they shared- rough hands and dead eyes.

Becca straightened her shoulders and took a few deep breaths. She might be out-numbered, but she knew they wouldn't hurt her. That didn't mean she wanted them to see her knees shaking.

"You're to come with us," growled Frack and Becca nearly jumped, but made her voice steady almost bored, when she replied.

"Why, do you have candy? Otherwise, I'm not really interested."

"Your father demands a meeting with you. Now," Frack barked even louder taking a few steps towards her.

Could demons sense erratic heartbeats? Could they see her heart jumping out of her chest?

"My father can make all the demands he wants, but I will not attend any meetings with him and I'm not going anywhere with you," she raised her voice to a shout in the hopes of scaring him a fraction of how much he'd scared her.

Apparently, loud noises don't scare off demons.

"Now, you can go and tell my father to stop sending his goons after me. It didn't frighten me when I was a kid and it doesn't frighten me now!" Becca silently consented that this was the biggest lie she had ever told.

"Listen, you spoiled brat," Frack snarled and Becca forgot her fear long enough to scoff, "we're taking you to the Underworld whether you go willingly or fight every step of the way. Personally, I hope you try to fight us."

Becca was listening to Frack but she was watching Frick. Since entering this dead end he hadn't said a word. He hadn't advanced on Becca and taken her by force. She quickly recognized she was more afraid of this wannabe biker than of the ungentle giant who had been making continuous demands of her.

'Maybe he can't talk,' Becca silently considered, 'or maybe it's just his job to stand there and look menacing.'

Becca thought he deserved a raise.

Enough was enough. She was having a perfectly wretched day before these two had shown up, and if she wanted to get out of the alley she knew she had to end their little discussion. Reasoning with them wouldn't help, and falling to her knees and begging for her life just wasn't an option. Not only would it simply not work but Becca had decided long ago that she wanted to meet death standing.

Becca mentally shook herself. She was not going to die. Frick and Frack were certainly not going to be the ones to kill her. Demons may think little of human lives but they put a great deal of value on their own. All she had to do was stick to the plan- make enough threats that these bottom-feeders would allow her to walk away.

"What are gonna do to me, huh? Hit me with a fireball?" her eyes glistened with challenge, 'oh, but you can't, can you? You two are just lower level demons. My father's lackeys," she made a taunting laugh, "his little pets, and he keep you on a pretty short leash, doesn't he?"

Frack was visibly shaking with anger, but it was Frick's reaction- a swift tightening of his right hand into a fist and releasing it- that gave Becca the courage to keep going. Her father wouldn't have sent just any demon- oh no, he needed a lackey with self-control. Without it anything could happen to his little girl. More importantly, his plans could be jeopardized.

Becca could tell that the demons in front of her had already been told what would happen to them if they deviated from the boss' orders. They would do as they were told, like a well-trained golden retriever.

She started to smile an arrogant smile that the car thief she had been would have recognized. She was going to get away. They couldn't risk losing their tempers and harming her. She shifted her attention to the voice entering the alley, and felt all her courage drain into a puddle at her feet.

"Don't mean to interrupt, but I'm talking my friend here home."

Not Henry. Anyone but Henry.

Becca wanted to close her eyes and count to ten- a sure way to dispel any nightmare. But this wasn't a nightmare, and she knew Henry wouldn't leave her. She had to make him leave that godforsaken alley.

"Listen buddy, I'm not your friend. Now if you'll excuse us, my associates and I are in the middle of a business transaction, so get the hell outta here!" She made her voice defiant and heated.

Let him think she was back into drugs. She had experimented when she was much younger, but had gotten clean months before she was even arrested for that ill-fated car boost. Henry knew all this, but after the last twenty-four hours it wasn't beyond the realm of possibilities that she'd want something to take the edge off. Not probable, but not impossible. Becca now regretted telling Henry the truth about getting clean. About ten minutes after she hit puberty she woke up after a hard night of partying that she didn't remember and had nearly tripped over her friend's brother's cold dead body. She had never needed twelve steps to kick her habit.

Let him think he walked in on a drug deal. She would rather lose his faith in her than keep him in her personal hell one moment longer.

'Let me fool him,' she prayed, 'let me fool him just this once.'

Her old warden's face stayed impassive.

"Let's go Rebecca."

The young woman silently let out a slew of swear words that would have made a sailor faint. Of course, he wouldn't leave her there. No matter how she had played it Henry would try to save her. It had nothing to do with his job, but with who he was- he simply couldn't walk away. Out of nowhere one of the few memories of her mother floated to the surface. She had told a story that had reminded Becca of Henry. The memories were always faded and the story itself was cloudy. Something about angels without wings who did nothing but save people from evil. People who had something to do with light. Henry would be good at that.

Their earlier conversation pushed thoughts of her mother out of her head. Henry was a husband and father. His son was going to play football in southern California. Henry would want to drive down to watch a couple games. He'd want to be there to cheer on his oldest child. What about the twins? Didn't Henry strike Becca as the kind of dad to wait up for all his children to get home from their dates? Of course, he did. Becca could imagine Henry grilling his middle child, his little punk rocker, about 'the guy on the motorcycle'. What would happen to his kids if they lost him? Becca forgot about putting on a brave front and began to shake. Those kids needed their father. They deserved to have him in their lives. Tears formed in the conflicted woman's eyes. How could she tell Paige that she was the reason Henry was dead? What plausible story could she concoct to explain away what really happened? The truth was out of the question, it would only put her and her family in danger. That's why Becca had never confessed the sins of her father to Henry.

She had to get him out of that alley, but before she could Frack spoke up.

"You heard her. We have business, so walk away before we make you crawl away," his body language reinforcing the threat.

"I don't want any trouble. I'll leave right now," he said easily, putting his hands up, "but my friend's coming with me."

The dawning realization was easy to see on Frick's face. The blonde biker could see the distance between his objective and the intruder. Becca had no psychic abilities, but she knew what he was thinking- Becca had immunity that Henry did not.

Sure enough, Frick created a fireball in his hand and Becca could see the surprise register on Henry's face. As the demon launched his weapon Becca made the unconscious decision to react.

Everything went black.

Henry couldn't have known what was coming when he entered that alley. Later his family would use this as a mantra, saying it over and over again, with the wish that he'd feel better. One day, he might forgive himself, but when he saw that fireball it wasn't just surprise he felt but recognition. Feeling like an imbecile he spared a single glance around the blind alley to locate cover for himself and his young friend. He would always regret that single glance. Had he kept his eyes on what he now knew were demons he would have seen the fireball being blasted his way.

Incredibly, impossibly, he wasn't hit. Before his brain could process this information he realized Becca was falling right in front of him.

Henry forgot the demons. It didn't occur to him what his magical family would say to ignoring fireball-wielding fiends. Becca had been hit with the fireball that was aimed at him. He couldn't understand how she had been injured being so far away just moments ago. His brain refused to make the connection. His attention was on the unconscious bleeding woman in his arms, so he missed the demons' exit. He still wouldn't have realized the significance of their departure.

Anyone else would have called an ambulance, but Henry called out for his wife.

Blue lights suddenly materialized, and there stood the love of his life. Her dark hair was lightly peppered with gray, although less than Henry's own hair was, and the laugh lines around her eyes had deepen through the years, but she was still his Paige. And right now, he needed her.

"Henry, what-"

"Paige, you have to heal her. Please," desperation made his voice shake, "there were demons and they attacked with a fireball and she got hit…"

Paige looked into her husband's face. She wasn't empathic like her sister and niece but after so many years of marriage she could nearly feel her husband's pain. His agony was over-whelming.

"Henry, I can heal her, but I need to know what happened. Do you know her name?"

"Rebecca Sawyer. Paige, its Becca."

Of course, Paige knew the name. Henry always talked about his work with his wife. The long hours and mind-numbing paperwork. The laughter and the tears. The failures and the successes. This fragile-looking woman, bleeding away her life force among the vermin and the garbage, was Henry's greatest success. The unhappy child who had transformed herself into a confident woman. Henry had seen pain before, but his suffering was now understood.

Paige remembered the night her husband had come to her asking her about adoption. Their son had just started middle school and the girls had ended an unusual vicious fight with each other by declaring as a united front that they no longer wanted to be twins. She knew the look she sent her husband wasn't encouraging, but he forged ahead claiming it would only be for a few months. That was the night she learned about Rebecca Sawyer. She had heard the name dozens of times and heard even more stories involving the teenager. Rumor had it, that the young woman's foster parents were thinking of moving out of state. He was afraid if the young girl on the cusp of womanhood was forced into another home she didn't want she'd choose to live on the street. He informed Paige that Becca had already made that choice once, and he feared all the progress the child had made to grow up would be tossed away. It had broken Paige's heart to remind him of the dangers in their lives. Their children had grown up with the dangers, so they knew the drills and the contingency plans, but young Rebecca wouldn't. If the point was to keep her safe could they bring her into their lives when she knew only of good versus evil from movies and books? Henry couldn't guarantee that Becca would understand their lives. After hours of discussion they decided that they wouldn't make any life-changing decisions until Henry had spoken to the foster parents. The foster couple did indeed plan to move away, but since they had four other foster children in their care, all of whom were still in school, they were putting the house on the market as soon as possible, but not moving until the children were out of school, which would be months after Becca's eighteenth birthday.

Paige looked at the young woman's pale face, who had circumstances been different, could have been her daughter.

"Henry, tell me everything that happened. Start at the beginning. Did she ask you to meet her here?"

"No," he stated, his eyes transfixed on Paige's hands as they rested on Becca shoulder, where the most damage had been inflicted. The well-known light of healing had Henry audibly release the breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

This had to work.

"Were you two meeting at the bakery?" prompted Paige. She had been healing for so long that she could concentrate on both the innocent and her husband. Besides, she knew her husband well enough to know he had to keep talking to handle the pain.

It may have been Becca hemorrhaging on the asphalt, but that didn't mean Henry wasn't bleeding. Paige loved him and knew he could handle the emotional anguish if he had something else to focus his energy on.

"I saw her walking down the street. She looked so lost…" he began to replay the last few hours, but after a few moments of healing and story-telling Paige opened her eyes with confusion.

"Did it work?"

Paige didn't know what to say. It hadn't worked, and she had a sinking suspicion that she knew why.

"What were the demons doing? Were they attacking her?"

"No, Paige why isn't she healed?" Henry could see the wound as big as his fist had stopped bleeding but hadn't closed, and Becca wasn't waking up.

"Were they threatening her? Was she afraid or trying to run away when they hit her?"

"No, damn it; tell me what's going on!" Henry rarely yelled at anyone, especially his wife.

"I can't heal her completely," she replied, simply, not knowing how she would answer the questions already forming on his lips.

"What does that means? Why not? Are you all right? Are your powers acting up?" His questions were being shot out faster than bullets.

"My powers are fine. It's not that-"

"Paige, you can't give up on her," the fight had left him, and his anguish cut Paige like a knife.

"You know me, Henry I 'm not giving up. I've stopped the hemorrhaging and stabilized her, but I can't close the wound. Before you ask me why, I think it has something to do with why she was in this alley. What can you tell me about the demons?" she asked, gently.

"Just that the one with the ponytail threw a fireball at me and Becca jumped in the way."

Paige's jaw dropped.

"She intentionally pushed you out of the way?" she questioned dubiously.

"Is that what I said," Henry snapped, his patience with wife at an end, "she was standing a few feet in front of the dumpster," he gestured about twelve feet away, "and the next thing I know she was falling covered in blood," his voice steadier, but still pained.

Paige digested the information. She only knew of one explanation, and it simply didn't add up. She thought about the endless stories she had heard over the years about young Becca and Henry's delight in her accomplishments. This innocent may not be an innocent after all, but that didn't change the fact that Henry was unharmed. Becca must have known the cost of saving her mentor.

Paige made a judgment call.

"We'll have to take her to the manor, and hope Wyatt can do more than I could. You and I can talk more then."

Henry saw the worry and uncertainty, and couldn't comprehend his wife's reluctance. It had been years since he'd felt left out of her life, being mortal and unable to magically save the day, but he knew his wife was keeping something from him. Once Becca was on the mend, fully and completely, Henry would demand the answers he was entitled to. He took his wife's hand, and they both held on to Becca as the familiar blue orbs floated around them and carried them away.


End file.
